


No grave can hold my body down (I'll crawl home to her)

by ApatheticRobots



Category: WALL-E (2008)
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Insider POV to Canon Events, Introspection, Temporary Amnesia, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23147449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApatheticRobots/pseuds/ApatheticRobots
Summary: "...but if there is such a thing as fate, the concept of 'free will' that has separated humanity from the angels of Heaven is nothing more than a lie. If our actions truly do not dictate the way our lives will play out, if it is already predetermined, is there really such a thing as free will at all? The idea of destiny is mutually exclusive to the ability to control the outcome of things..."Unit 008 has a job to do.
Relationships: EVE/WALL-E (WALL-E)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 48





	No grave can hold my body down (I'll crawl home to her)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Work Song" by Hozier
> 
> Unbeta'd

Unit 008 had a job to do.

Its job, like the rest of the WALL•E units, was to collect, compress, and store all waste on the surface of the planet Earth. Each day it would boot up at the same time as the rest of the units in its storage vehicle, exit its compartment, open its solar panels to charge, then begin working. At sunset it would stop working, return to the storage vehicle, enter its compartment, and shut down until morning. This was routine.

Unit 008 had a job to do. 

Its job was to clean up all the garbage littering the city it and the other units in its sector had been stationed in. It would wake up with the sun, go outside and charge, then get to work. Then, when evening came, it would go home and go back to sleep. All the other units did the same. 

Like Unit 013, who focused its efforts on the streets so that it was easier for the rest of the units to travel. Or Unit 025, who picked up and compressed cloth garbage before any other kind. Or Unit 099, who had never quite been the same since that building collapsed and it got trapped in the dark for a month while the rest of the units worked to clear the rubble. Unit 099 had sat in the sun charging for a full day after it was finally dug out. Then, when night fell, it had panicked and refused to shut down until Unit 071 and Unit 030 had figured out how to string up some old colorful lights they’d found. They balanced carefully on the top shelf of compartments and hung the lights along the roof of their storage vehicle, hooking them up to the main power source, and Unit 099 was able to rest peacefully because the vehicle wasn’t dark.

The rest of the units were all very careful to never leave 099 alone in the dark again. 

WALL•E-08 had a job to do.

His job was to help his brothers clean up the city, pick up all the trash and stack it into neat little towers. They had to make the Earth clean again so the people like the ones in the very big videos could come back. The man in the videos always talked about how great space was, but he also sounded very excited when he talked about the WALL•E units cleaning everything up. 

WALL•E-08 and the rest of his brothers wanted to make the humans that excited when they came back. So they all worked very hard during the day to make the city clean, and made buildings that the humans could live in out of the trash they cleaned up. 

Sometimes, when WALL•E-08 found an especially fun or interesting piece of trash, he would bring it home for his brothers to see. They all decided to start doing the same. Their storage vehicle became a veritable menagerie of objects, with him and his brothers all decorating their compartments with the things they liked. WALL•E-08 had a special attachment to the objects that made noise, like the little plastic box that sang when he turned the lever. Some nights, when he and his brothers were still awake, he would turn the little lever and play the song so they could all fall asleep a little easier.

99 never really got over his fear of the dark, so he brought home lots of objects that could light up. He especially liked the small metal things that made fire when you flicked the wheel. He’d bring them home and stack them very neatly in the corners of his cubby. He really didn’t like when anyone disrupted the neat piles.

They liked the work they did. They liked collecting objects, and they liked stacking blocks, and they had each other, so they were happy.

13 didn’t come home one day.

WALL•E-08 and his brothers were all sitting, waiting with the door open, because 13’s compartment was still empty, but eventually it became too late and a sandstorm kicked up so they had to close the door and go to sleep.

The next day, they all looked very hard for 13, because they were afraid he might have gotten trapped under a building like 99 did. There weren’t many buildings left, of course, but the ones that still stood were all old and very close to collapsing, so it was a justifiable concern. 99 was especially adamant about searching for their missing brother; he didn’t want anyone else to have to go through what he did.

They found him, eventually. Sitting utterly still with his crusher door open, his arms held out, and his solar panels stuck half-open. The sun was out and they  _ should _ have been generating power, but the little yellow bar on his chest wasn’t going up. His screen was dark.

None of them were sure what to do. So they left him there, and went back to work.

Then 71 and 44 didn’t come home. Then 18, and 50, and 66, one after another and sometimes in bunches at a time their brothers stopped returning at night. WALL•E-08 and the brothers that remained would look for them, and sometimes they would find them, and sometimes they wouldn’t. And they all looked like they were in the middle of working.

WALL•E-08 found a brother one day. It was nearing sunset, and he was finishing up with the last of the waste he was in charge of that day, and 03 (who was working next to him) suddenly stalled and froze where he was, arms outstretched. 

WALL•E-08 made a noise of alarm. He rolled over to his brother as fast as his wheels would carry him. He waved a hand in front of 03’s optics, shook him a bit, pried open his solar panels, but nothing worked. His brother stayed still and silent, staring blindly at the piles of garbage in front of him. WALL•E-08 rolled back, shaking in his treads, and hurried home.

WALL•E had a job to do.

He didn’t need the number anymore. He had no brothers left to distinguish himself from. The last one left, ever-determined 99, had shut down for good a long time ago. He’d been working beside WALL•E when it happened, and much like 03, had suddenly jerked to a halt and frozen where he stood.

WALL•E went home. What else was he supposed to do?

He went home, and in his silent storage vehicle decorated with colorful lights and all the little objects that his brothers had found and made their own, he curled up in his cubby and went to sleep.

WALL•E had a job to do.

It was the job he’d been doing for a very long time, since he was shiny and new and there were still starships leaving Earth. Since he still had brothers to help him. Now it was only him, and the work was a lot harder, but he still got it done. He was diligent and sturdy. He’d keep working as long as his treads would keep him moving.

He collected more stuff. He found a plastic bucket one day that perfectly latched onto the hook on his back, and he used it to collect more things. He collected the shiny fire-boxes that 99 had been so fond of. He collected colorful things, and shiny things, and things that moved when he shook them, and things that played sound. He collected something that lit up when he hooked it up to the home’s power source, and played cheerful music with people singing along. He recorded the song, and played it as he worked. He found the music made the silence that had once been filled by his brothers chattering away a little more tolerable.

He made a friend. It wasn’t a robot like him, and it wasn’t a person. It was small, and moved very fast, and felt weird when it crawled through his mechanisms, but it was something other than himself. So he’d take it. He brought the little thing home, and he opened a plastic thing one of his brothers had once called food, and the little thing seemed to like it. WALL•E decided that meant they were friends.

He watched the movie with the singing people a lot. He had the music on near-constant loop while he was working. He  _ needed _ sound. He felt like his processors might give out if he worked in silence.

He didn’t pay attention all the time. He was paying attention now, watching as the two people on the screen sang and looked into each others eyes and threaded their hands together.

He flexed one hand. Flexed the other. Aligned the metal joints just so, like the people on the screen had.

He wondered if there was anyone left in the universe that he’d be able to hold hands with.

WALL•E had a job to do.

But, here’s the thing. He wasn’t really doing it. He basically ignored what his directive told him to do, instead spending his days following the shiny robot that had showed up in the starship. He watched her float through the city, scanning pile after pile of waste, never seeming satisfied with what she found. He watched her bring her arms and head close and close her eyes and shut down. He watched her blink awake and get right back to work. She reminded him of how he used to be; charge, work, shut down, repeat. 

She wasn’t entirely like him though. He saw her get excited, saw her weave her way through the buildings of garbage he and his brothers had spent centuries building. He saw her get irritated, slamming the door of a fridge shut when it didn’t give her what she wanted. He saw her get angry, arm switching to the thing that made explosions and destroying the line of ships that had stood for years untouched.

He saw her get sad, staring at the destruction she’d caused with a downcast expression.

He learned her name. Her name was EVE. 

He wanted to hold her hand.

WALL•E had a job to do.

He had to get EVE out of the sandstorm, and fast. She was new to Earth, she obviously had no idea the danger the storm posed. The sand kicked up around them and WALL•E immediately curled up and made himself as small as possible. He would have just stayed like that and hoped very hard that he was still functioning when the sand settled, but he heard EVE calling his name with what was most definitely panic in her voice, so he uncurled as much as he dare and reached out to latch onto her arm. Hand-holding could wait-- they were in trouble.

Home was dark when he arrived, because he’d shut off the lights before leaving, but he didn’t need the lights to see. He left EVE near the doorway while he drove over to turn on the colorful lights and clear away some sand that had collected when he’d opened the door.

He learned that EVE was not fond of the singing fish. That was okay, she didn’t have to like everything he did. But he really didn’t want her destroying it.

He showed her more of the things in his home. He showed her the metal thing that spun when you turned the lever, the plastic that made a fun noise when you squeezed it, the glass circle with the metal bit at the end. He was pretty sure that one was broken, though, because the second it was in EVE’s hand it started glowing. It stopped when he took it back. She took it again, and it started glowing again, and he just shook his head and went to find something else to show her. He showed her the cube with all the colors on it, then turned away to grab the tape that played the singing people, and when he came back she’d somehow rearranged it so all the sides were the  _ same _ color.

She broke the tape.

But it was okay! WALL•E wasn’t upset, and the tape could be fixed. It would still work. And he showed EVE the singing people. He also showed her the trash can lid he’d picked up, and how he could be like the singing people that tilted their hats. He showed her dancing, and invited her to do the same.

He wasn’t sure entirely what happened, but the next thing he processed was that he was lying on the floor, and one of his optics was dark.

With the one he still had he could see EVE approach him with concern, but he waved her off. It was fine-- this wasn’t the first time he’d been broken. Centuries of rough work would take a toll on one. He managed to find the shelf he kept the replacement optics on, and as he always did whenever he repaired himself, tried very hard to not think about which dead brother this part might’ve come from.

She seemed to like 99’s fire boxes. He liked them too, not so much of what they were, but because of how the light from the fire reflected on the shining white of her chassis, contrasting with the blue of her eyes.

He showed her the thing he’d found earlier, the thing that wasn’t like any of the other things he’d ever found. It was green, and it was small, and fragile. He’d stored it in an old shoe.

Something happened. Something happened to EVE.

His home was dark. The only light was a pulsating green glow coming from the symbol on the now-dormant EVE’s chest. 

He shook her. He called her name. She stayed silent, her eyes stayed dark. Had she run out of power? Had she shut down? Had she--

He felt his processor freeze in fear. Had she died like his brothers had? Spent too long on the planet and fallen victim to the rot that had caused his brothers to perish? She was so new, and shiny, and she could  _ fly, _ there was no way this place could kill her. No, he decided, she wasn’t dead. His brothers had all gone dark when they died, but there was still a little light glowing on her chassis. She was just… out of power, maybe.

That was okay. That was fixable. He ran out of power sometimes, too. When the sun rose, he brought her outside, and though he couldn’t  _ see _ any solar panels on her, maybe just sitting in the sun would do the trick.

It didn’t. She stayed dark and still.

That was okay. He could wait.

And wait.

And… wait.

He couldn’t keep waiting. He stayed as long as he could, brought her around the city with him, kept her safe, but he still had a job to do. So, like a good little robot, he went back to work. 

WALL•E had a job to do.

That job would be very difficult to complete, given his job was to make Earth clean again, and he was no longer  _ on _ Earth. He was far, far above it, travelling through the sky that the dust and debris that covered Earth had kept him from seeing. These-- these were  _ stars, _ weren’t they? Like in the picture books one of his brothers had brought home one day. These were stars, and this was the sun that kept him alive, and he was on a starship. Or, rather, hanging onto the side of one. 

He decided then that since he was no longer on Earth, he no longer needed to do his job. He could find a new job. He decided that job would be to keep EVE safe.

It proved rather difficult. Everything on the big starship he found himself on moved so fast, and everything was so clean, and there was so much  _ stuff _ going on all the time and changing all the time he found it hard to focus, hard to see. He barely managed to keep up with EVE as the cart she was laying on zipped through the chrome halls. 

There were people here, he realized. Human beings. They didn’t look like the ones in the videos, though they were wearing the same outfits.

He helped one. This one’s name was John. He hadn’t seen EVE.

But WALL•E saw her. He raced after her, jumping onto the moving platform at the last second and carefully rolling towards her cart. He got the attention of the human named Mary, and after she moved her floating chair back, he was finally able to latch onto EVE’s cart. He could keep her safe, now.

The cart went through a room and up an elevator and into  _ another _ room, and this place was  _ really _ big. He ended up getting shuffled around and shoved under a counter and then EVE was awake! She was awake, and he rolled over and got her attention. She told him to wait, so he did, but he didn’t have to wait very long because a couple seconds later she noticed just who he was and was shoving him back, and he was pretty sure what she was saying was probably important, but he was having trouble focusing on her words with how close she was. 

The green thing she’d taken from him was gone. She was mad, very mad, and judging by the way she picked him up and checked inside his compressor and started scanning the room very fast, she really wanted to find it. 

He helped her look. He didn’t have much luck either, though.

Then there was a shout, and he shook a human’s hand, and then he was back on the cart. EVE was awake this time. She didn’t seem too happy with him.

WALL•E had a job to do.

His job was to keep EVE safe. It was a hard job, because everything on the starship seemed to be working against him. The robotic arms stuck something on her that made her go to sleep like she’d done before, then they picked her up and carried her away, and they tried to grab  _ him _ too but he managed to slip away. Sort of. He ended up trapped between two other robots anyways.

He could see EVE behind a foggy glass door. He could see the robot arms poking at her.

He could see them tear her arm off. Electrocute her. Pry her head away from her body.

He panicked.

She got mad  _ again, _ and he really did feel bad about that, but then the robot arms went limp and all the robots around the room were grabbing him and carrying him off and there was too  _ much _ going on, and--

There was a line of very, very menacing looking robots in front of them.

EVE took her arm-explosive back. 

Then they were running some more, and hiding, and being chased, and then they were in an elevator. He tried to show EVE the picture of the two of them being projected above their heads. She was clearly still mad, though; she blasted the screen to pieces. 

She pressed some buttons, then tried to get him to go into a room, and…

...She was trying to send him away. But she was staying here. That couldn’t happen, his job was to keep her  _ safe!  _ How could he do that when he was on Earth and she was here? He would  _ not _ go, he would leave the room every time she put him back in it, he would--

Hide, apparently. Like she was doing. He curled up and made himself as small as possible. There was someone coming, and they couldn’t be caught.

The robot set something down.

It was the green thing, the thing EVE had been looking for. She’d been so mad at him as of late. Maybe if he gave her the green thing again, it would make her happier.

He rolled over, as quietly as he could, and picked the green thing up. He called her name.

She looked… scared.

Then there was a sound, and the doors slammed shut, and he was rocketing away from the starship. He shoved the plant inside his compressor. He had to keep it safe. EVE needed it, after all. 

Self-destruct really didn’t sound good.

He had to get out. He had the plant with him, and if the pod self-destructed, the plant would be gone, and then EVE wouldn’t be able to complete her directive. He couldn’t let that happen.

He escaped. 

He barely caught a glimpse of EVE flying towards him as he rocketed past, propelled by the metal thing that sent him flying away from whatever direction he pointed it in. He swept past her again as they both turned around at the same time to try and reach the other. He waved at her to stay still, and with careful movements, floated himself over to her.

He opened up his compressor, holding the plant out to her. 

Her eyes widened.

She took it, stored it safely in her chest, then she was laughing and shouting and grabbing him and spinning the two of them around, holding him tight to her, and he allowed himself to just indulge in it and pressed himself as close as he could to her.

She looked at him, met his eyes.

There was a spark.

His processor  _ raced. _

He barely noticed her letting go, barely noticed himself floating away. It felt like he’d just taken a bath in sunlight, like it had when he’d been clinging to the side of the starship and had opened his panels when they were right next to the sun and been charged within seconds. He  _ was, _ actually, the jolt of electricity that had passed between them had jumpstarted his systems. He felt more alive than he had in  _ years. _

EVE laughed. His processor, which was having a hard time doing the thing it was supposed to do and  _ processing, _ came up with his first coherent thought since the spark; EVE had a very, very nice laugh.

It was  _ exhilarating, _ what they were doing. Him propelling himself along and her flying right beside him. The two of them leaving mingling trails of white and blue.

He spun, and she twirled, and they danced among the stars.

The moment had to end eventually, though. His canister stopped pushing him along. He let it go, watched it float away, while he himself drifted. He found himself landing in EVE’s waiting arms.

The moment had been sweet. They were still technically in trouble, though, so once they were back on the starship EVE’s carefree attitude was gone, replaced with the efficient, work-minded EVE he was accustomed to. Which was fine-- he was happy just to spend time with her. She told him to wait, so he waited, spending the time trying to think of a smart way to ask her if he could hold her hand. She was  _ very _ smart. He didn’t want to sound like an idiot in front of her.

He watched her fly away.

...He had to keep her safe.

It was slow going, inching himself up the garbage chute, but he eventually made it. It was a good thing he’d gone too-- as he reached the chute’s exit, something landed on top of him. He jerked his head up in surprise.

The plant landed on his chest, right in front of his optics.

No, the stern-voiced robot could  _ not _ have the plant. EVE needed it, the man in the chair needed it so they could go back to Earth. He shoved the plant in his compressor. He’d keep it safe.

It  _ hurt. _

This wasn’t like the spark that he and EVE had shared. This was painful, electricity meant to hurt, jabbing him and burning a hole through his motherboard and draining his power so he could barely move. He looked at EVE, panicked and frozen. Then he fell.

WALL•E had a job to do.

He had to help. He had to keep EVE safe. But he couldn’t move, he could barely make his processor think, and everything  _ hurt. _ His motherboard was fried and he knew it. He could fix it, though, and EVE didn’t seem to get it. He could fix himself. He’d been doing it for centuries. They had the plant, which means they could go back to Earth, and he could  _ fix _ himself.

She got it.

He held onto the plant. He held onto it like his life depended on it. In a way, it kind of did. If they didn’t get back to Earth, he couldn’t replace his motherboard, and he couldn’t recharge, and… Well. Best not to think about it.

Everything was hazy, and they were moving very fast. He heard a few notes of the song he played while he worked. Music would help.

That part of him wasn’t broken, at least. The music played with only as much static as there always was. The sound must have spread through the ship as EVE carried him through the halls, because by the time the song ended, they had a veritable army of robots following after them. With limited power he could process a few of them were robots he’d met before, the first time they’d gotten in trouble.

They had to go. They had to put the plant somewhere. He could do that.

The ship tilted. The plant fell from his hands.

WALL•E had a job to do.

He had to keep the machine from closing. He had to keep it open, because the plant needed to go in here, and they needed his help to go back to Earth. EVE needed his help. He would help her. 

It hurt. It hurt a lot. There was so much pressure, the ship was so much stronger than one little waste management bot. But he held on, he pushed against it with all his might, he ignored the low power warning blaring from his chest and pushed upwards with all the strength he could muster. These people were depending on him,  _ EVE  _ was depending on him. He had a job to do, and by the  _ stars _ he would do it.

It wasn’t enough.

His treads slipped.

It  _ hurt. _

Unit 008 had a job to do.

Its job, like the rest of the WALL•E units, was to collect, compress, and store all waste on the surface of the planet Earth. Each day it would boot up at the same time as the rest of the units in its storage vehicle, exit its compartment, open its solar panels to charge, then begin working. At sunset it would stop working, return to the storage vehicle, enter its compartment, and shut down until morning. This was routine.

But there was something… wrong. There was another robot in the storage vehicle. Not another WALL•E unit. It did not know what kind of robot this was.

It didn’t spend any processing power thinking about it. It still had work to do. The waste piled in the other units’ compartments held no significance. It would collect, compress, and store it like all the other waste it came across. It would do its job. 

The other robot was here again, holding onto it. Shaking it. Saying something, saying… Its name? No. It was Unit 008, referring to it as “WALL•E” would be like referring to a human as just “Human.” It was a classification. It was not a name. Unit 008 did not have a name, anyways. Unit 008 was its designation. That was what the system logged it as.

There was something about the other robot’s eyes that made Unit 008’s processor stutter.

The other robot carefully grabbed his hand, splaying the digits out, and threading its own hand into place. It made a noise. The noise was quiet, barely audible, but it was… recognizable. It was rhythmic. There was a pattern to it.

There was a spark.

She went to pull her hand away. But-- no. No, it didn’t want her to. 08 liked the idea of holding hands with someone, he’d been trying to hold her hand since they  _ met, _ and now EVE was holding WALL•E’s hand and he was  _ not _ going to let her go so soon.

He blinked.

EVE.

He  _ knew _ her.

WALL•E didn’t have a job to do.

Not anymore. Well, he did, but it wasn’t because his programming was telling him he had to do it. He cleaned up garbage as he knew how to, but so did the humans, and the other robots. He did other things, too. He carried materials, he helped the humans build things, he entertained the smaller humans. He did these things because he wanted to. They were his jobs, but they were jobs he’d chosen, and jobs he was happy to do.

He didn’t work all the time. Neither did EVE. That meant the two of them could spend time with each other instead.

He didn’t have to ask to hold her hand.

  
She held his first.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in an hour because i rewatched wall-e and i have fEELINGS about robots
> 
> also yes i picked 008 for wall-e's unit number because the movie came out in 2008 no i am not creative


End file.
